


Friends With Benefits Is A Shit Idea

by cristianoronaldo



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:25:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cristianoronaldo/pseuds/cristianoronaldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's upset because they fucked a friend and fell in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends With Benefits Is A Shit Idea

**Author's Note:**

> 1 a.m. musings   
> It's almost 2 actually   
> 1:45-ish musings

It’s midnight and the blinds are closed, and Xabi is sitting up in bed asking Steven to pass his water, but the other man is sleeping and he wouldn’t have cared even if he were awake. Xabi wants to tell him that he didn’t need to make things hurt anymore, that the two of them not speaking ever again would be better than their constant need to hurt and be hurt. He doesn’t need their spark anymore, but he’s addicted to it. 

 

He rolls over. He stays quiet. 

 

+ 

 

“Hearts don’t break,” Cristiano says one day, and Iker doesn’t agree. He thinks, _then what the hell happened to mine_? 

 

He laughs next to Iker another day, and he says, “I collect mistakes.” And Iker didn’t hear what he was saying before that. He just wonders, _was I one of them_? 

 

6 a.m. before practice, and Iker rolls over to see Cristiano next to him. He hardly remembers how they got there the night before, but his limbs feel like lead and his head feels like someone pulled the plug. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Cristiano says, and his voice is rough with sleep. He rubs at his eyes and falls asleep again, but Iker thinks, _are you really sorry? Because I’m not_. 

 

+ 

 

Marco is alone, and he remembers a smile, and he thinks that’s the saddest part, that ghostly memory of something that once made him so happy. But then he remembers their trip to the beach, the way they fell against the sand together, the way Mario laughed and said, “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” 

 

He remembers his rapidly fading smile the way they fucked afterwards. 

 

“I’m glad this is working out,” he’d said in the morning, “You and me, you know? It normally never works for people, but--” And Mario had jumped back on the bed to kiss up his chest. “It’s working for us, and we’re proving all of them wrong.” 

 

Marco thinks he’s a dumb piece of shit, and then he thinks he’s a heartless piece of shit for deciding to leave, but Mario is his, dammit, _his_. And then he realizes that _that_ is the saddest part, not the smile and not the memories, but the fact that Mario was his despite everything. 


End file.
